


Sight Unseen

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-15
Updated: 2006-03-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8090692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: (04/01/2003)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Since it was her plotbunny, this fic is for Louise.  
  
Beta: Thanks to ReginaBellatrix for being a terrific Beta and for helping me brainstorm.  


* * *

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely certain, sir."

Archer sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Jon knew that it was inevitable that he would lose members of his crew during their journey of exploration. They'd come across too many hostile species along the way, come out of too many scrapes to think otherwise. He just hadn't expected this. Never dreamed that Lieutenant Reed, Malcolm, would actually die. He'd survived too much.

How would he tell Trip?

Jon opened his eyes, staring at the floor of the armory, Then looked around the room, the place where the man had spent so much time. He glanced at Phlox and then to Nicols. "All right, Nicols, tell us everything you know."

Nicols raised his eyes to those of his Captain. "Sir?"

"I want to know what happened. I need to know."

"I'm not entirely sure what happened, sir. When the Bak'al came aboard, Lieutenant Reed seemed a bit more...agitated than usual. He is normally a bit suspicious about meeting new races but this time he was just...obsessed. He is...was very determined to keep the crew safe from harm."

Jon placed a hand on the officer's shoulder. "I know Nicols."

"He didn't trust them, sir. He was always keeping an eye on them. Doing his best to keep this crew safe. He must have come in here to work late when they got him. Must have walked in on them. From the evidence in the room, he put up quite a struggle."

Archer let his gaze travel around the room. There was upturned furniture, several consoles had been smashed in, and an obvious smear of blood on the floor.

Damn it! Jon had known that the Bak'al were dangerous but by the time he'd discovered the extent of their treachery, they'd beamed out and were long gone. Jon knew it was foolish to hope but..."Do you have any idea where the body is? Could they possibly have taken him with them? Alive?"

" I don't think so. There were five of them aboard the ship. Five left. They clearly wanted something from the armory; the Lieutenant clearly put up a fight protecting whatever it was. Nothing's missing as far as I can tell. I can only guess that they must have," Nicols voice choked, "vaporized him."

Archer glanced at Phlox, who nodded and stated in a low tone, "It is entirely possible. I agree with the crewman's conclusion; Lieutenant Reed is dead."

Jon returned his gaze to Nicols. "Were their weapons capable of doing that?"

Nicols nodded. "I saw their weapons. They were quite impressive and easily capable of killing someone without leaving a trace. If Lieutenant Reed hadn't been so engrossed in keeping an eye on them, he would have been eager to examine those pistols."

Jon let out a light laugh. "Yes, he would have."

Nicols smiled slightly and then his face dropped. Jon noticed the expression and squeezed the man's shoulder firmly. "He'll be missed by us all, Nicols. Malcolm was a good man."

"Yes, sir. He was. He'll be missed very much."

Jon left the armory and headed straight for engineering. Jon knew that Trip would want to know about what had happened and he didn't want him to find out about Malcolm's death from someone else.

Trip and Malcolm had been very good friends. They'd frequently gone to movies together, eaten together, worked together, and argued as often as they got into trouble, which was frequently. Jon had always wished to form a closer friendship with Malcolm, but the lieutenant had seemed reluctant to form a close relationship with his captain. Malcolm had been friends with Hoshi and Travis, but he and Trip had been best friends. Only Trip could convince Malcolm to do anything that might be considered inappropriate. They'd gotten into a lot of scrapes together. Jon knew Trip would break down when he heard Malcolm was dead...especially when he'd secretly been in love with the lieutenant for over a year.

Jon entered engineering and noticed Trip standing on top of the warp core. "Trip."

Trip looked down at him and called down. "Can I do somethin' for ya, Cap'n?"

"I need to talk to you.

"Can it wait? I'm kinda busy at the moment."

"Trip. It's important. Really important." Jon's serious expression and reserved tone caught Trip's attention, and he looked sharply at his friend.

"Sure, Cap'n. My office?"

Jon nodded and waited for Trip to climb down from the top of the engine.

Trip led the way to his office and held the door open for Archer, then stepped in and leaned against his desk, leaving the door open in case someone needed him. "Well, what did you want to talk about?"

"Trip, why don't you sit down." Trip raised an eyebrow but sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Jon sat down in the other one; at his friend's inquiring glance, Jon looked quickly at his folded hands and let out a long held breath. "Trip, I have some...bad news."

"What, we have to cut short our mission?" Trip joked. Catching the look on Jon's face, his expression grew serious. "What is it, Jon?"

"I was just down in the armory, Trip."

Hearing the low tone, Trip jumped up. "Was there an accident? Is everyone all right? Is Malcolm all right?"

Jon looked up. "Sit down, Trip. There wasn't an accident." Trip sat down slowly. "Then what's this about if everyone's fine?"

"There wasn't an accident, Trip," Jon repeated. He took a deep breath. "Everyone in security is fine." Trip nodded. Jon looked his friend straight in the eye. "Everyone but Malcolm."

The blood drained from Trip's face. "What happened, Jon?"

"We're not entirely sure. We think that the Bak'al wanted to steal something from the armory. As far as we know, Malcolm walked in on them. There was a struggle. The armory is a mess."

"Cap'n, I don't care about the fuckin' state of the armory! What happened to Malcolm?"

Jon leaned forward and grabbed Trip's hands, "Malcolm was killed, Trip."

Trip pulled away. "No. He couldn't have been. He can't be dead."

"Trip, every sign points to it. The obvious sign of a struggle. The blood on the floor." From the look on Trip's face, Jon wished he'd kept that detail to himself. "There's no body, Trip. Only five of them came on board and only five left. That leads to only one conclusion. They killed him. Vaporized him. He's dead, Trip."

Trip stared at Jon blankly. "Dead?" Jon nodded. Trip swallowed hard, fighting back tears.

"Are you okay?"

Trip nodded, jerking his head. Jon stood up slowly and pulled Trip into his arms, hugging him tightly. Trip stiffened in Jon's arms, trying to pull away, but Jon refused to let go. Finally, Trip sagged and started to sob. "God, Jon. He c-can't be dead. He j'st can't be." Jon slowly ran his hand down Trip's back. "I never even got a chance to tell him. Tell 'im how much I loved him."

"I'm sure he knew you cared for him."

"I was in l-love with 'im, Jon. He n-needed to be l-loved and I n-never had the c-courage to tell 'im. I was too damn s-scared he'd p-push me away." Trip said between broken sobs.

"I know Trip. I know."

Jon continued to rub Trip's back as he sobbed. Behind them the door silently shut, giving them privacy. When he had finally calmed down, Jon carefully pushed him back and looked into his tear-streaked face. "Listen Trip. Fixing the engine can wait. Go to your quarters and get some rest."

"No, Captain. I don't want to be in my quarters right now. I need to work. I can't be there alone."

Jon looked at his friend carefully and then nodded slowly. "If you need to take off, do it." Trip nodded, eyes red and puffy.

Trip went into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. Jon slowly walked him back into engineering. He watched as Trip silently resumed his place on top of the warp core.

Then, Jon walked to the bridge. He'd have to tell the crew.

Archer exited the lift and looked around the bridge. T'Pol, Hoshi, and Travis were sitting in their usual spots. Someone from the armory was sitting in Malcolm's place. From the look on Ensign Palmer's face, Jon guessed that Nicols had already told her what had happened to Malcolm. He walked over to her and leaned down to look at her. She looked up at him, and her lips quivered.

"Are you going to be all right, Ensign?"

She took a deep breath and then nodded slowly. He smiled at her slightly and then turned his attention to the other members of the crew. They were looking at him oddly. He turned to Hoshi. "Ensign Sato, please open a comm to the ship."

Hoshi nodded at him. Jon took a deep breath. "Attention, this is Captain Archer. I have an important announcement. Lieutenant Reed was...killed early this morning." Jon swallowed. "We do not know the details of what happened, but I will be sure to let you know when we learn more. I will notify you as to when services will be held." Jon nodded at Hoshi and she closed the comm.

Jon slowly looked around the bridge at his officers. Travis looked stunned, his mouth gaping open, then he caught the Captain's eyes and swallowed hard, looked away. Hoshi was biting her lips, blinking rapidly. Jon turned his head and looked at T'Pol. She nodded at him then lowered her head silently.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters." Jon was not accustomed to leaving the bridge during alpha shift, but after everything that had happened, he needed some time alone.

* * *

That night, Jon sat on his bed, petting Porthos absently. He stared out the window, watching the stars fly by. God, how would they survive without Malcolm?

Malcolm was part of the heart of this ship. He had kept everyone safe. He'd been so determined, been such a model officer for the crew. Okay, maybe he'd been a bit overzealous, and maybe Jon didn't really want his crew dropping from exhaustion and overwork like Malcolm, but still, Malcolm's determination had been more than worthy of praise.

Jon knew he'd have to contact Admiral Forest about Malcolm's death. And Reed's family. Jon wasn't looking forward to that. It was bad enough having to contact a dead crewman's family, someone he didn't know very well. But when he knew the person, had worked with them, it made it that much harder.

The comm outside his door buzzed. Jon sighed, not wanting to be disturbed, but as Captain he had little choice in the matter.

"Yes?"

There was no answer. Jon frowned and shrugged. The door buzzed again. Jon called out again, "Who is it?"

No answer. He got up and opened the door; there was no one there. He stepped back to close the door and felt something brush past him. He frowned as the door closed. He looked around the room but couldn't see anything.

Jon sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his hand through his hair. "Man, I need to get some rest."

"I'm afraid, sir, that won't be possible."

Jon jumped up. "What the—" He peered around the room. "I must be going crazy. I would have sworn that was..."

"Indeed, sir. It would seem I have a bit of a problem, and I'm going to need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

Malcolm woke up slowly and felt a hard, cool surface pressed against his cheek. He looked around groggily and his eyes opened wide in amazement. //What the hell happened to my armory?// He stood up, staring at the damage.

Then it came back to him. The Enterprise had met up with a new species; Malcolm hadn't known why, but he hadn't trusted them. Okay, so he didn't trust anyone, but he'd trusted them less than usual. He hadn't liked the way they looked at him; the gleam in their eyes when they watched him move around. He hadn't known what they wanted but he knew they'd wanted something. As it turned out, what they'd wanted...was him. Apparently, they'd thought he was...pretty, Malcolm thought with disgust. They'd been slavers, and his good looks and dangerous aura had intrigued them and made him a highly desirable piece of merchandise.

When he'd walked into the armory, they'd been waiting for him. He'd fought them, but in the end, their numbers had prevailed. They'd attached some sort of device to his chest, told him that if he tried to take it off, he'd receive a very painful shock. He hadn't resisted, waited for his moment to strike. He'd soon realized that the thing they'd installed was a cloaking device. When he noticed they were relying entirely on a little hand-held piece of equipment to locate him, he'd taken his chance. Moving quickly, he'd hit his guards, and grabbed the monitor out of the alien's hands. The device now cloaked as well, the aliens soon realized that they wouldn't be able to find him. Realizing he could go to the captain and tell him where they were, they'd decided in the end to make a quick getaway. However, Malcolm was certain they would be back for him at some point, and he knew he had to make preparations. Apparently he was too...pretty for them to let him go.

His first order of business had been to destroy the monitor. He'd placed it on the floor and smashed it with his foot. The destruction of the monitor produced an electrical shock in the device on his chest. As he lost consciousness, he fell across the broken monitor, cloaking it with his body.

He had to get that damn device off his chest. He had the advantage when the Bak'al didn't have a monitor, but when they did...well, his crew would be unable to protect him. They couldn't help if they couldn't see him. Malcolm looked down at the cloaking device attached to his naked chest. It had small prongs which were sharply embedded in his skin. Well, it would probably tear some skin when he pulled it out, but as the monitor seemed to be what caused the electrical shocks, torn skin was not a major concern. He grasped the object quickly and pulled. Malcolm let loose a muffled "shit" as he fell unconscious again.

Malcolm slowly came awake again. Damn it! Usually he was more careful. He was definitely going to have to get more help with this. Trip. He'd go to Trip. Surely with the help of the Chief Engineer, they could figure out how to detach the thing. He tried to pull his turtleneck back on, the fabric brushed the device on his chest. He let loose a muffled curse, as the circle of metal gave him a small shock.

Okay, so touching the damned thing in any way caused an electrical shock. Touching equaled a little shock; outright pulling equaled unconsciousness. Best to keep that in mind.

Malcolm pushed open the doors to engineering. Good, no one had seen the doors open. He really didn't want to start a rumor about a ghost aboard the ship. He looked around for the Chief Engineer but couldn't see him anywhere. He walked towards the commander's office and noticed the captain was with Trip. His gait slowed as he drew near.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw Trip enclosed in the captain's embrace, his head buried in Archer's neck. He stopped and swallowed convulsively. //Come on, Reed. You knew they were friends. Why are you surprised that they're something more? Just because Trip never told you doesn't mean anything.// But that wasn't what was bothering him. Trip had never mentioned he was interested in men before. Malcolm shouldn't have cared...except he'd always rather hoped that if Trip were interested in men, that he'd be interested in him. Because he was in love with Trip. Had been for a very long time and was too scared to say anything. Now it was too late. Or maybe he'd never stood a chance to begin with. Malcolm braced himself. //Well, time to face the firing squad. You knew you were going to have to tell the captain about this at some point. Just consider yourself lucky. You can get Trip to help you and tell the captain about your predicament all in one go.//

He walked forward slowly. He knew that hearing a bodyless voice would be frightening enough, no need to scare his captain and his friend unnecessarily.

He drew closer and began to hear snatches of the men's conversation. Was Trip...crying?

He leaned forward, listening to Trip's words. "God, Jon. He c-can't be dead. He j'st can't be. I never even got a chance to tell him. Tell 'im how much I loved him."

"I'm sure he knew you cared for him."

"I was in l-love with 'im, Jon. He n-needed to be l-loved and I n-never had the c-courage to tell 'im. I was too damn s-scared he'd p-push me away."

"I know, Trip. I know."

Malcolm's jaw dropped open. Were they talking about him? Trip loved him? Malcolm shook himself and looked around engineering. No one seemed to have noticed the commander's break down; Malcolm knew it wouldn't be right to let them see Trip like this. Silently, he closed the door.

Malcolm slowly walked down the halls of Enterprise. He was in a stupor. Someone loved him. Trip loved him. Trip actually loved him. Him. Malcolm Reed. Trip hadn't been having an affair with Archer. He was in love with _him._

The comm came on suddenly, startling Malcolm out of his haze. He spun around quickly, reacting, he crashed into the wall at the turn in the corridor, the device hitting the edge.

Crewman Andrew's head came up. He thought he'd heard a thump, then a muffled curse that sounded like "bloody hell," then another thump, as if someone's body was hitting the ground. He ran down the corridor to help whoever had fallen...but no one was there.

Malcolm pushed himself up in the corridor several hours later. This was getting really tiresome. No more thinking about Trip's love for him. If he hadn't been so intoxicated by the thought, he never would have been caught off guard, he never would have smashed like a complete imbecile into the wall, and he wouldn't have shocked himself again. What if the Bak'al had come back? He wouldn't have been able to defend himself. He had to get the damned device off. But first, he had to tell the captain what was going on. No doubt he was starting to wonder.

He decided to take a chance that Archer was in his quarters. He didn't really want to deal with the dumbfounded looks on the bridge when the doors to the lift opened with no one inside. Maybe the captain had retired for the night.

He rang the bell outside Archer's quarters and heard the captain's answer of "Yes." Malcolm was about to respond and then thought better of it. No need to alert anyone to his presence. When the door didn't open he rang the bell again. "Who is it?" Malcolm waited. He knew the captain was bound to come and see who it was eventually. The door opened and Archer peered out. Success! Malcolm waited for him to step back before quickly darting in.

Archer sat down on the edge of the bed. "Man, I need to get some rest."

Malcolm nodded his head in agreement. Well, best to get this over with. "I'm afraid, sir, that won't be possible."

Jon jumped up. "What the—" He peered around the room. "I must be going crazy. I would have sworn that was..."

If the circumstances weren't so dire, Malcolm might have found the situation amusing. "Indeed, sir. It would seem I have a bit of a problem, and I'm going to need your help."

Jon looked in the direction of Malcolm's voice. "Malcolm?" He said uncertainly.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going crazy. That's it. I'm going completely crazy. I've been in space too long. I ate something at lunch that didn't agree with me. I need to get laid—"

Jon was about to go on when Malcolm raised a hand to stop the speech, quickly realizing that wouldn't do any good. He spoke up, "Uh...sir, not meaning to be disrespectful, but why don't you stop that line of thought before you say something that will embarrass both of us." Jon just stared in amazement, his mouth hanging open.

Porthos' head came up and he peered in Malcolm's direction. He hopped off the bed and ran over to Malcolm, detecting his position by smell. He peered up at Malcolm expectantly; Malcolm reached down and obediently began to scratch the dog's ear. Porthos' leaned into it, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Holy shit!"

Malcolm glanced up quickly. "Sir?"

"You're really there, aren't you?"

"Afraid so, sir."

"What the hell happened?!"

"Sit down, sir. This may take a while."

Malcolm quickly explained the details of the attack to Archer.

Jon got up and began to pace around the room with agitated, jerky movements. Malcolm was forced to dodge him to keep from being bumped into and shocked.

"You mean my ship is in danger? My crew's in danger?"

"Uh...no, sir. Just me."

"Just you? Why you?"

"Because I'm...pretty."

"Pardon?"

Malcolm's cheeks flushed. He was more than a little grateful the captain couldn't see him. "Apparently the Bak'al thought I was...pretty. They found me attractive and thought they could make a lot of money if they sold me to the right people."

"And so they put a cloaking device on you so they could get you off the ship?"

"Yes, sir.

"And you took away the monitor so they couldn't see you?"

"Yes."

"Where were you until now, then?"

"Unconscious."

"What?"

"You know that device? Well, it emits little electric shocks. Breaking the monitor created a large enough shock to knock me unconscious."

Archer jerked around and Malcolm barely leaped out of the way. "Sir, I really would appreciate it if you'd sit down. I'm having difficulty dodging you."

Archer quickly sat down on the bed.

"But now that the monitor's broken, why don't you take the thing off?"

"I can't. Touching it gives off little shocks. Pulling it off....or bumping into things," Archer flushed slightly, "gives off a large enough shock to knock me out for several hours." Archer looked like he was about to respond when Malcolm calmly said, "Trust me. I've already done it twice."

"Great."

"They're going to be back for me, sir, and unfortunately they'll be the only ones who can detect me. I need to get this thing off. I need to formulate a plan before they get back,"

"But if that thing gives off shocks, how do you plan to get off?"

"Haven't a clue. I was rather hoping the commander could help me with that."

Jon's face froze. "Trip." Malcolm raised an inquiring brow, which Jon obviously couldn't see, but could somehow sense. "He thinks you're dead. The entire crew thinks you're dead."

"I rather suspected. I saw you earlier today...when you told Trip."

Jon's head swung up. "Then you heard..."

Malcolm took a deep breath. "DId he mean it? Did he mean it when he said he loved me?"

Jon looked at the empty space where Malcolm was standing. Jon nodded slowly. "Yeah, he meant it."

Malcolm took a deep breath then asked,"Any idea how long he's loved me?"

"More than a year" Jon answered slowly. "Malcolm, he was devastated when he thought you were dead. Maybe it would be best if you didn't approach him."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to hurt him, Malcolm. He was vulnerable. Said things he didn't mean to say."

"Are you saying he doesn't love me?"

"No, but—"

Malcolm interrupted. "Then there isn't a problem. I'll go wake Trip up and we can start working on this thing. In the morning, tell the crew what's going on. I'm going to need people around me at all times so I have help fighting the bastards off. If they get me alone, I won't stand a chance."

Archer nodded slowly. "Stay in well populated areas, then. Work in Trip's quarters, tonight; I'll have some people from security posted outside his door. Tomorrow I'll tell everyone what's going on." Malcolm nodded and left the room, missing Jon's startled look when the door opened and closed by itself.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm tellin' ya. We can't take that much power away from the Warp Core."

"Commander Tucker, the weapons systems are every bit as important as your precious engine. It may be the fastest in Starfleet but it certainly isn't the fastest out here. Keeping the weapons at their maximum capacity is every bit as important." Trip braced himself on the edge of the warp core platform and looked wearily at his companion, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed.

"Mal. We've been arguing about this for the last hour. We're the only ones still here. Can't ya just give it a rest? We aren't facing any hostile forces at the moment. I promise ya, if we need the weapons, I'll transfer power."

Reed stared at him for a moment and then nodded slowly.

"Now was that all?"

"Not quite." Trip raised an eyebrow at Malcolm's crisp tone.

"Oh? What else did ya want to talk about?"

"Some security precautions for the warp core."

"Pardon?"

"Well, it seems to me that we have had problems with it in the past."

Trip narrowed his eyes at that comment. "What kind 'a problems?"

"If we are hit, your engine could blow up the entire ship. We need to take measures that will ensure that the warp core will not be a threat."

"And how is this any concern of yours?

"I'm head of Security."

"What does that have to do with my engine?" Trip growled.

"It could be a danger to the crew. It is my responsibility to protect them."

"Uh-huh."

"If you will follow me, I'd be happy to show you what I have in mind." Trip nodded slowly and followed Reed.

Malcolm quickly climbed up onto the engine. He looked around as if checking the area, for what Trip wasn't sure."

"Are ya gonna just stand there or help me up?" Trip asked sarcastically. He was halfway up onto the engine, and Malcolm was standing on the edge, blocking him.

Malcolm looked down at him in thought and then extended a hand to help Trip the rest of the way.

Trip meant to say 'thanks' but the sound was smothered by the pressure of Malcolm's lips against his own.

When the two finally came up for air, Trip gazed down at Malcolm in amazement. "Mal, what's going on?"

Malcolm merely gave a little half smile and pulled Trip to the center of the engine. He gently pushed Trip down and straddled him. "Do you really need to ask that question, Mr. Tucker? I would think it would be obvious." He leaned in so his lips were a breath away from Trip's. "I have every intention of ravishing you...on top of your precious engine." Trip grew painfully hard at the look in Malcolm's eyes and the sound of his voice as he purred his intentions. Malcolm looked down at Trip coyly and rubbed himself against Trip's hard length. "I see, or should I say feel, that the idea has a certain amount of appeal." Trip was too far gone to respond.

Malcolm slowly stripped off Trip's uniform, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed to him. Finally taking Trip's length into his mouth and sucking on it. He flicked his tongue across the tip;Trip grabbed Malcolm, holding his head where it was, making sure he couldn't stop.

"Trip?" Shit. It was the captain. "Trip? I need to talk to you."

Trip looked up to tell Malcolm he'd be back in a second...but Malcolm wasn't there. He looked around him, and then called out. "Jon? You seen Malcolm? I can't find him."

"He's dead, Trip. He's dead."*

Trip woke up with a start, Jon's words echoing in his head over and over again. Trip had had the dream a thousand times before. It had been one of his greatest fantasies, to make love to Malcolm on top of his beloved engine. Normally Trip would have woken up hard and aching, but this time he'd broken out into a cold sweat. He took a deep breath. He never wanted to have that dream again.

And then he stilled. It wasn't really a dream, was it? Malcolm really was dead. Oh God, how would he get through this?

The comm outside Trip's door rang. He wanted to tell whomever it was to go away but that wasn't really appropriate behavior for a senior officer. It might be something important. He crawled out of bed and walked to the door; opening it, he peered out into the corridor. Nothing.

Suddenly, a warm steady pressure pushed him back into the room. He was too startled to protest. He fell back onto the bed. In the dark room, Trip felt two hands grasp either side of his face, then a warm pair of lips pressed against his own in a hot, passionate kiss. A tongue entered his mouth; Trip couldn't do anything but open his mouth wider. Just as suddenly as the lips had descended, they disappeared.

A warm British accent swept over him, "Trip Tucker, have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Trip yelped and jumped back, looking around frantically in the darkness. He fumbled for a light switch, but when the lights came on, no one was there. He crawled to the edge of the bed and peered down.

Malcolm waited for Trip to settle down on the edge of the bed again before sitting down next to him. He placed his hand on top of the other man's, where it was gripping the edge of the bed tightly. Trip started and tried to pull his hand away, but Malcolm held on firmly and leaned one side of his body close to Trip and whispered in his ear. "It's me, Trip. Malcolm."

"No...Malcolm's dead."

'No, Trip. I'm not dead. I'm very much alive.

"But the captain said—"

"I'm not dead. I'm cloaked." Trip stared at where Malcolm was sitting. "Come on, Trip. You've cloaked your own hand before. You've worked with cloaking devices before. You can believe this."

"But yer dead. The captain told me."

"I know what he told you. I heard him." Malcolm squeezed Trip's hand. "I'm not dead, Trip. The Bak'al wanted to sell me as a slave. They cloaked me so they could get away more easily. I escaped."

Trip stared. "Yer not dead?"

"No."

"I'm hallucinatin'. That's it. I'm sufferin' from intense grief and I'm hallucinatin'. I should'a taken the captain's advice and then gone to see Phlox. That's what I'll do. I'll go to Phlox. He'll make the voice disappear." Trip started to get up but Malcolm grabbed his hand again and pulled him down.

He ran his thumb up and down over Trip's hand. "Trip, you're not hallucinating. Call the captain if you don't believe me."

Trip stared straight ahead. "I'm not hallucinatin'?"

"No?"

"And yer not dead?"

"No."

Trip took a deep breath. "And Trip?" Trip's head shot up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too." Malcolm kissed the side of Trip's neck.

"All right, now I know I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy, Trip. I'm here. Alive. And I love you. Did you mean what you said in engineering? Do you love me?"

Trip smiled slowly and said in a low voice. "Yeah. I meant it." Malcolm kissed Trip's cheek, and Trip leaned into it.

Trip reached out and ran his hands up and down Malcolm's bare arms, feeling the strong muscles rippling underneath. It was disconcerting to feel warm skin, but only see his hands floating in mid-air. He closed his eyes and leaned into Malcolm, inhaling that warm scent that was so uniquely Malcolm. He kissed the top of Malcolm's head, rubbing his cheek against the other man's silky hair. It felt so good to touch him, know that even if he couldn't see him, he was there. He leaned back and pressed his cheek against Malcolm's, pulling him closer. Then his hand wandered across Malcolm's chest.

Malcolm was enjoying Trip's closeness so much he almost forgot why he was there. When he felt Trip's hand roaming a little too close to the device, he grabbed it quickly with his own and pulled away. Trip looked up, blinking. "Trip, I need your help."

"With what?" Trip said softly.

"I have to get this cloaking device off."

"Well then, take it off." "Trip, don't you think I would have tried that already?"

Trip's mind came back from the dreamy haze it had been in because of Malcolm's nearness.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Trip asked softly.

"Help me figure out how to detach it." "Uh...Mal, how can I do that if I can't see it?"

"We'll work together."

Trip nodded slowly. " 'kay, then." Malcolm grabbed Trip's hand and pulled him closer.

"All right, where is it?"

"Upper left hand side of my chest."

Trip put his hand in the center of Malcolm's chest and started to move it upward. Malcolm grabbed the other man's hand. "Oh, and Trip?"

"Uh-huh?"

"You can't touch it."

"What?!"

"It emits electrical shocks every time something touches it."

"How the hell can I get it off if I can't touch it?"

"Be creative."

"Uh-huh. Right. Ya know, I've dreamed of hearin' you say that in this bed a hundred times, but this isn't quite what I expected."

Malcolm grinned. "We can be creative in that way later. But first let's get this thing off."

Trip smiled back and then looked into the clear space in front of him and scowled. "And I thought workin' on a fried plasma coil was a pain in the ass."

They talked for more than an hour trying to figure out how to get the device off, without any success. Finally, through sheer frustration, Trip just reached out and tried to touch the damn thing. Malcolm jumped, emitting yet another muffled curse. Trip felt Malcolm's hand whack him upside the head. "I _told_ you not to do that!"

"Sorry. Geez." He rubbed the back of his head. "Ya sure ya don't want to keep that thing on? Think of what a powerful asset it would be to have an invisible security officer."

"Hmm...you know, when you put it that way...it still doesn't have any appeal whatsoever."

"Ya sure?"

"Positive"

"You know, Mal, I don't think we're gonna be able to get that thing off of you. At least not tonight."

"Great. Just great."

"Maybe in the morning we can go down and look at that control you smashed. If I can reconstruct it or somethin', maybe I can figure out how to reprogram the thing and get it off you."

"Or shock me to death."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

Malcolm sighed. "How did I get myself into this mess?"

Trip grinned. " 'Cause yer pretty."

"I never should have told you that," Malcolm grumbled.

Trip just laughed. He then reached for where he thought Malcolm's face would be. Malcolm moved his head to accommodate and was slowly pulled in for a deep, passionate kiss. "I'm so glad yer not dead."

Malcolm smiled. "So am I." He ran a finger down Trip's face, smiling into his eyes.

"Why don't you stay here tonight?"

Malcolm pretended to consider the remark and then said. "Well, I don't think it would be a good idea if I were alone. Just in case they come back."

"I'll protect you."

"That sounds lovely, Commander."

They moved back in the bed. Malcolm flicked the light switch off and then pushed Trip down onto his back and straddled him. He leaned down and kissed Trip passionately. Trip met him half way, their tongues battling as they kissed. Malcolm's hand ran down Trip's face, moving to his shoulders. He kissed the side of Trip's neck, sucking at the skin and biting it with his teeth. Trip moaned in pleasure, bringing his hands up and running them down Malcolm's back. His hands wandered lower, and felt where Malcolm had tied the arms of his uniform around his waist. He reached around the front and untied the knot. He slowly pushed the uniform off, feeling his way down Malcolm's taut stomach and to the aroused cock pushing against the fabric of his briefs.

Trip hooked his fingers beneath the waist band and pushed Malcolm's uniform and underwear off his body. Malcolm took one of Trip's hands in his and kissed the finger tips, drawing them into his mouth and sucking on them. Trip moaned, sinking his other hand into Malcolm's hair, he pulled Malcolm in for another kiss. Malcolm pushed Trip's shorts from his body and reached down to grasp Trip's erect penis in his hand. He ran a finger along the tip of it, spreading the pre-cum around. Trip moaned loudly, grasping Malcolm's forearms, keeping Malcolm's hands in place.

Malcolm leaned forward and whispered into Trip's ear. "I want you inside me, love."

"How?" Trip gasped. "Won't you risk bein' shocked that way?"

"Not if we stay in this position."

Trip didn't need to be asked twice. He fumbled around in his bedside table's drawer for the tube of lube he kept there. Malcolm took it from Trip's hands and poured a generous dollop onto his fingers. He tossed the tube aside and grasped Trip's phallus. He rubbed the lube onto it, and then Trip grabbed Malcolm's hips to steady him as Malcolm sank down. Malcolm braced his hands flat on Trip's chest. He'd never felt anything like it.

"Yer not gonna just leave me like this, are ya?" Trip gasped.

Malcolm grinned. "I'd thought about it. Any place else you'd rather be?"

"No."

"Well, then." Malcolm slowly raised his hips and then sank down again. Both men groaned at the friction the movement created. Malcolm moved again, and Trip thrust up to meet him, hitting Malcolm's prostate in the process. The men's movement turned more frantic, in a haze of passion,Trip's hands wandered up Malcolm's body, inadvertently hitting the device.

"Son of a bitch!" Trip yelped.

Followed by a "Bloody hell!" from Malcolm.

Malcolm breathed deeply, his movements stilled. "Trip?"

"Yeah?"

"Now do you see why I didn't want you touch it?"

"Yeah."

Malcolm shook his head and chuckled. "What am I going to do with you?" He grabbed Trip's hands and anchored them to the bed with his own.

"I have a suggestion." Trip said.

"Do you? Well, if you pardon my saying so, after that little mishap, I'm more inclined to follow my own instincts."

"And what do ya have in mind?"

"Well, first I'm going to hold you down so you can't shock both of us again."

"I'm not gonna disagree with that."

"And then I'm gonna finish fucking you senseless."

Trip grinned. "Works for me."

Malcolm slid up and down Trip's length slowly, prolonging the pleasure. Trip thrashed around on the bed, trying desperately to break free of Malcolm's grip. "Mal, I gotta touch you. Just let me touch you."

"No, Mr. Tucker."

"Please..." Trip begged.

Malcolm's response was to wiggle his hips where he was seated on Trip.

"Oh God, Mal."

Malcolm continued his steady movement up and down Trip's length until finally, Trip thrust up hard into Malcolm, hitting his prostate. Malcolm gasped, muscles contracting around Trip. Both men came at once, Malcolm moaning Trip's name as he came, Trip shouting out Malcolm's.

Both men collapsed, Malcolm supporting himself slightly on his forearms to keep from shocking himself again. When he'd caught his breath, Malcolm rolled onto his side, pulling Trip up behind him, wrapping the other man's hands firmly around his waist. "Good night, love."

"Good night." Trip said sleepily, as he dozed off.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Captain Archer and a cloaked Malcolm stepped onto the bridge, ready to tell the crew the latest development aboard the ship.

"This is so...strange," Jon said to Malcolm.

T'Pol's head came up, her eyebrow raising in inquiry. Jon ignored her.

"I know you're there, but it's disconcerting. I don't know if you're on my right, left, behind me, in front of me." He paused, looking around with a frown. "Are you even there? Malcolm?"

Hoshi looked up. "Sir? Who are you talking to?"

"Malcolm."

"Malcolm? Malcolm's dead, sir."

"No, he isn't. He's standing next to me." Jon looked around. "I think."

T'Pol stared at Archer. "Sir, might I suggest you make a visit to Dr. Phlox."

Archer blushed. "I'm fine, Sub-Commander. Trust me."

T'Pol shook her head and resumed her work.

Then through gritted teeth, Archer turned to where he thought Malcolm was, "Malcolm, now would be a good time to say something."

Malcolm leaned in from the opposite side and spoke softly. "What would be the fun in that?"

Jon jumped slightly. "What happened to acting like a model officer?"

"I'm not on duty at the moment. And while I may be a model officer, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good joke, especially given the stress I've been under lately."

"Damn you."

"Is that any way for a captain to talk?"

"Yes."

Malcolm chuckled.

"For a dead man, you sure are in a good mood."

"Don't know why," Malcolm said cheerfully.

Jon smirked. "I suppose it has something to do with that grin Trip had on this morning?"

"Perhaps."

Jon snorted. "I don't want details."

"I wasn't planning on giving you any."

Jon couldn't help but smile. Archer turned to Hoshi, who was staring at him with horror. "Ensign Sato, please open a shipwide comm." Hoshi obediently complied.

"This is Captain Archer. I have news regarding Lieutenant Reed. There will be no services. The lieutenant is alive and well."

Hoshi turned off the comm abruptly and turned to Archer, her lips quivering. "Sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but this is inappropriate. There is no reason to...say such things. He's dead. Phlox confirmed it, when I asked him."

Malcolm looked at Hoshi tenderly, deciding that prolonging her pain would be cruel. He walked to her side and flipped the comm back on. "Attention. What the captain has said is correct. I am alive. As to whether or not I'm well remains to be seen. I was cloaked by the Bak'al, who wished to force me into slavery. Although I escaped them once, I have doubts about being able to do so a second time. I'm going to need all of your help. Captain?"

Jon cleared his throat. "Your duties have been reassigned. Since we believe that the Bak'al will be back, we are going to keep the lieutenant in well populated areas during the day and with Commander Tucker and Security in the evening. As the mess is the most populated area on the ship, Reed will stay there. You will all be required to spend some time in the mess from now on to help protect him should the Bak'al reappear. Members of security will be stationed with him at all times. If you have any questions, you can ask them when you go to the mess for your shift. This schedule will continue until we know for sure that the Bak'al are no longer a threat. Any other comments, Lieutenant Reed?"

"Yes, sir. First, I'd like to clarify that none of you are in danger. The Bak'al seem to only be interested in me." Malcolm flushed slightly. "You're just going to have to trust me on that point. Second, as I am cloaked, there is always the chance one of you will accidentally bump into me. If I speak out to you to stop your movements, please do so immediately. That way we can avoid any unpleasant accidents." Malcolm then turned off the comm. Hoshi was blinking back tears and as Malcolm passed her, he pressed a quick kiss on her cheek.

He stepped up beside Archer. "All right, sir. I'm ready to go to the mess." Archer nodded and walked with him to the lift.

Trip was sitting next to Malcolm, peering at the damaged monitor on the table in the mess. "Man, when you decide to break somethin', you do a damn fine job of it."

"I take it you can't figure out how to fix it."

Trip stared at the mangled monitor. "I don't think anyone could fix it. It would be easier to get a new one."

"Well next planet we go to, let's make sure we pick one up."

Trip chuckled. "I'll look into it." His expression sobered. "We'll figure out something."

Malcolm put his hand over Trip's. "I know. It'll work out."

"I never thought I'd see the day, an optimistic Malcolm. Incredible. Are you sure yer feeling all right?"

Malcolm laughed, drawing several looks from the people in the mess. "I'll work on being pessimistic for you."

"That's the man I love." Trip looked up, spying Travis and Hoshi at the door. "Well, looks like the next shift has arrived."

The two ensigns saw Trip and began to walk over.

"Trip, go and see to your engine. Travis and Hoshi are perfectly capable of looking after me. Not to mention all the security officers packing weapons around the room."

"I know. J'st...well, I'd rather keep an eye on you myself, so to speak."

"I'll be fine, Trip." Malcolm leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Trip smiled slightly. "I suppose I should enjoy that while it lasts. Yer not likely to be quite so free in your kisses when you're visible again."

"Oh, I'll be very free with my kisses. Just not in public."

"That's what I thought." Trip looked up. "Travis. Hoshi." He nodded to them and gathered up the broken monitor. "Here, why don't you take my seat, Hosh. And Travis, why don't you take that one." He pointed to the seat on Malcolm's opposite side. They took their seats. "Mal's in the middle." He looked pointedly at where he thought Malcolm's face would be. "Behave yerself." He nodded at Hoshi and Travis. "I'll see y'all later." He then made his way to the doors.

Hoshi felt around the table and grasped Malcolm's hand;Travis felt around and grabbed the other one. Malcolm frowned over the odd behavior. "I appreciate your diligence in keeping an eye on me, but you don't have to hold my hands," Malcolm chuckled.

"We lost you once, Mal." Travis said seriously.

"We don't mean to do it again." Hoshi stated matter-of-factly, squeezing Malcolm's hand affectionately.

Malcolm smiled at his friends tenderly. "Thank you," he whispered.

Several days had passed and the Bak'al hadn't made an appearance. Malcolm's good humor over the situation had evaporated and he could feel himself growing more and more agitated. He had stopped sleeping and he had a strong suspicion that dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. He was also getting irritated over the constant shocks he received from the damned device.

He leaned back into the pillows on Trip's bed, listening to the soft sound of the shower in the other room. He'd like a shower. A hot shower. A _long_ hot shower. Trip had told him pointedly that he couldn't have one, as he had an electrical device attached to his chest. He was jealous that Trip got to take one and he couldn't. Damned cruel of him.

He was startled out of his musings by a movement in the corner of the room.

"There he is. Get him quickly before we are detected."

Malcolm tried to call out for help but his voice was muffled by a gag. He struggled but the Bak'al were clearly more prepared this time around. They had no intention of letting him get away a second time.

"Hand it over, buddy." Malcolm looked up to see Trip, a towel around his waist, phase pistol pressed against the head of the alien with the monitor.

"Ah, Commander Tucker, correct? You forget I met you. You wouldn't shoot me."

"Try me." Trip snarled. "You hurt the man I love, and you'll wish I had killed you."

Apparently the tone of his voice convinced the alien he was serious. He slowly handed over the monitor.

"How does it work?" The alien didn't answer, Trip smashed the phase pistol into his head.

The alien gulped, clearly a coward at heart. "You have to enter a code."

"And the code is? You lie to me, I'll kill you."

The alien quickly stammered out an answer.

"How do I know yer tellin' the truth?"

"I swear." The alien stated.

Trip quickly punched in the code and Malcolm reappeared. He yanked the gag out and gingerly pulled off the device.

The aliens were staring at Malcolm, mouths agape. Trip looked at Malcolm closely. There were dark circles under his eyes, his hair was mussed, his chest had red splotches and bruises covering it from the sharp prongs of the device and constant shocks, not to mention the bruises Trip had inflicted with great pleasure. He smiled over the memory of Malcolm's begging, sucking on that warm skin...

His thoughts were interrupted by the horrified chatter of the aliens.

"Are you sure he's the one we wanted?"

"He isn't...pretty. His skin is all discolored."

"And...he smells."

"What are those marks beneath his eyes?"

"I thought his hair was like _t'karin_. It looks more like _k'opt_."

The aliens looked utterly disgusted. Trip couldn't figure it out, Malcolm looked fine to him. But who was he to argue with their misconception?

Thinking quickly, Trip decided it might be best to encourage their confusion.

"What are y'all talkin' about?" Trip asked.

"He's so...ugly." One of the aliens said with horror.

"Well, that's what he always looks like." He tilted his head slightly to the side, considering Malcolm. "Ya know, I think he was sick when ya first saw him. The illness made him pale and wasted. Lost all his distinguishing marks."

"You mean those hideous blotches?" Another alien asked.

"Yep. Aren't they great?" He looked at Malcolm, a silly love-sick expression on his face. Malcolm looked down at his chest and up at Trip with a bland expression.

"They're ghastly," an alien gasped.

"Really? I've always liked them. But I guess love is blind, as they say. Would explain all the surprised looks I've gotten over the years when I've gone out in public with 'im," he replied cheerfully.

Malcolm scowled, and the expression clearly shocked the aliens, for he nodded his head quickly in agreement with Trip. "If you will excuse us, we seem to have made a mistake."

Trip's genial expression darkened. "Don't be back."

The aliens shook their heads, grimacing.

One of aliens made a few terse comments into a communicator, and they disappeared from sight.

Trip walked over to the comm and called the captain.

"Yes?"

"Cap'n, Bak'al just made an appearance. Everything's all right. Mal's visible again, and the aliens won't be comin' back."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"What happened?"

"Tell ya tomorrow."

There was a short pause. "Fine." Archer sounded curious but didn't press the issue. "I'll inform the crew in the morning and tell security they can leave their posts. And Trip, Malcolm should go to see Phlox tonight so he can make sure that there are no side effects from the cloaking device."

Trip shuddered. "Do I have t' make him go to Sickbay?"

Jon chuckled. "Yes."

"Damn."

"Good luck."

The engineer sighed. "I'm gonna need it. Tucker out."

Trip turned to see Malcolm grimacing over the captain's words. "You gotta go, Mal."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay here. I was rather hoping for a shower. Not to mention getting some sleep."

"Wouldn't want to go against a direct order, would ya?"

" _I_ was not ordered to go to Sickbay," he stated petulantly. " _You_ were ordered to take me there."

"All right, then. As your commanding officer, I order you to go to Sickbay."

"Bastard."

Trip chuckled, walking over to Malcolm, embracing him and kissing his forehead. "And if you go quickly, I'll join you for that shower you mentioned. I never got to finish the one I was taking," he murmured.

"And going to bed?" Malcolm said hopefully.

"I think that can be arranged."

Malcolm sighed, leaning against Trip. "Fine, then. I suppose I can handle being prodded by Phlox."

Trip kissed him again. "That's my boy." He pulled out a shirt for Malcolm, and they walked down to Sickbay together, hand in hand.


End file.
